


To Have Wings

by rainbooks



Category: Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Coming of Age, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4024546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbooks/pseuds/rainbooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Against all that has tried to keep them apart, the direct descendant of Wendy Darling has at last found her place in Neverland, beside the boy, Peter Pan. But with Peter getting weaker and Neverland beginning to crumble at her feet, perhaps we'll find that it would have been for the best if she had stayed away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Have Wings

Prologue

The Jolly Rodger toppled helplessly amidst the still rising waves, and each time Margaret was sure they'd be swallowed up by the sea, they somehow buoyed back up above water. She couldn't see the shore of Neverland any longer; just black ocean walls, just the bleak, white sky, just vague flickers of far away flames and thick streams of opaque smoke rising from them. Churning about as they were, all of this seemed to swirl together, and dizzy and nauseous with rain falling sideways with the whips of wind, Margaret couldn't tell which way was up.

She thought, not paying mind to the irony of it, that it was a good thing she and the boys were tied up. Otherwise, they'd be stumbling across the deck like the crew, frantically and uselessly trying to save the ship and their own lives. Of course, when the Jolly Rodger was finally foundered, she and the boys would go down with it, tied to it by the mast in a neat little circle. The pirates would at least have the chance of swimming to shore, though even if they made it, they would then have no where else to go.

At least she and the Lost Boys were going down with dignity. They faced their death wet, cold, powerless, and standing barefoot in Lip's watered down vomit but once Pebble had stopped his sobbing, they did so silently, accepting, and very unlike the Captain, who, wearing a look of desperate confusion, staggered across the ship, watching the skies.

Captain Blackwood's gaze, now furious, fell upon Margaret who watched her drag herself over through a crew that no longer recognized her existence and grab hold of the soaked, thin fabric of Margaret's night gown. Blackwood shouted above the cacophony of death and havoc, "WHERE IS HE?"

The boys yelled now, demanding Blackwood let Margaret go. They struggled haplessly against the ropes, kicking their legs and spitting at the Captain, but Margaret stared impassively back at the frightening woman, their green eyes equal in fervor though one was filled with fire and the other with ice.

Margaret found then that the Captain was not much scary at all. Sopping wet, in fact, she looked like a rat. Planting her feet flat on the mast, Margaret leaned in as closely as her bonding allowed, loosening the Captain's grip of her dress in her hands and said, "He's gone."

Snarling, Blackwood slammed Margaret back into the mast, and turned away. "All hands on deck!" she bellowed. She kicked a member of the crew who slid hopelessly on his stomach as she passed. "Move, you pitiful limpets!"

"That's not true, right Margaret? You were lying, weren't you?" The evident fear in Spruce's voice, shouted in her ear made Margaret think that maybe she was wrong. The boys hadn't accepted their fate in the slightest. She felt them fidget in their ropes, those who had heard Spruce waiting for her answer, for her consoling. "Peter's coming back for us, isn't he?" he yelled. Pebble began to cry again. Spruce's voice high pitched and disbelieving, he whimpered, "Margaret, are we going to die?"

Suddenly frenzied and nauseas in a different sort, Margaret turned her head and faced Spruce beside her. She leaned over and kissed him on his freckled forehead. "No," she said, and she smiled. "No," she cried, louder. "We're not going to die, boys! Peter's coming! He's coming! He's-"

An unmistakable yell sounded from above the ship; a crow; and the boys, looking upward, cheered at figure that shot up above them. Blackwood turned to face Margaret, and their eyes met again. From across the distance of the ship, they understood each other's emotions perfectly: Blackwood's delight and Margaret's utter terror.

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A/N Alright, so I've definitely attempted to write and rewrite and post this story a whole bunch of times, so you may have seen a version of this before. Anyway, I really want to do it this time, and I would really appreciate some encouragement so I could get over the whole oh-everyone-hates-my-work writer's cliche, but I'm going to try to keep going no matter what and hopefully finish before summer ends. Anyway, thanks for reading and please tell me what you think.


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